


The secrets that you keep are ever ready

by SayNevermore



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Episode: e118 The Masquerade (The Magnus Archives), Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, M/M, Pre-The Unknowing (The Magnus Archives), as in happening somewhere right before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 04:08:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SayNevermore/pseuds/SayNevermore
Summary: The suggestion hits Jon slowly first then all at once: "this is the last chance I'll ever get to kiss him."
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 25





	The secrets that you keep are ever ready

The suggestion hits Jon slowly first then all at once. One moment they’re scouting the House of Wax, Jon’s thoughts entirely on the plan, the task at hand, his eyes peeled for any specific weakness in the structure, and the next he feels it. A creeping tickle at the back of his ears informs him he’s being watched, so he turns, and when Tim’s eyes meet his, the thought practically explodes inside his head, not so much settling into his mind as it is searing through any and all conscious thought. 

The first reaction he has of course is to fight against it. He takes a long, deep breath, and as his lungs fill he knows how to rationalize it—he’s always been so good at it after all, at taking apart the supernatural, the irrational, until it could be neatly packaged into something wrong but ultimately more manageable, something that cannot hurt him; and he can do that to this idea too: it can’t be what he just heard, there is another explanation. It has to be something else because the Eye gives him trickles of information and not the kind of violent certainty he just experienced, because the Eye gives him ridiculous details and facts rather than emotions, because the Eye does not see the future and this sounds too much like a prediction to be Its doing. No, it can’t have anything to do with his newfound abilities. It’s nothing, really; his own brain trying to evacuate the stress through delirious make-believe. His own stupid, wishful thinking that he could still salvage something out of the mess he’s made of Tim and his relationship. A moment of weakness, when these two drives conflate into a single, utterly ridiculous idea…

...and then he exhales, and deflates, and Occam’s razor cleanly cuts through the bullshit. It’s true because it has the shape and feel and taste of truth, and because Jon can see with perfect clarity the reason why his power would give him this information. He can already feel, anticipate, the satisfaction he’d get out of toying with that secret: Tim squirming under his gaze, the mortification of violated intimacy, the shame of its nature, _really, after all this time and everything Jon has done to him, this is how Tim feels about him?_ (this is _still_ how he feels, Jon thinks, and has to force himself out of unraveling that train of thought before it can tear open a passage directly into the rest of Tim’s brain. It would be so easy. The Eye is still a fickle and difficult thing to manage but it would be so easy to give in and pull a complete statement from that single hook.)

And it is not a prophecy. It’s what Tim thinks is going to happen.

Jon turns to face him completely, reeling his own mind back as fast, as strongly as he can before it can sink its proverbial teeth into Tim’s psyche, failing however to not fully give shape to the one realization he’s already accidentally confirmed.

_He does not plan on coming back._

And he should not know that, he should not, he should not, Tim will be upset if he brings it up but it’s not like it was his choice, and is he supposed not to act on input just because it was received the wrong way? Do we not save people against their will? 

“What?” Tim practically barks, his whole body jumping with tension, and today is the day Jon discovers if there is such a thing as Fear Power Feedback; a sort of strange loop where both their nervousness feeds the other, each of them exuding the same slimy dread of _he knows he knows he knows_ until he wants to break and recoil, except he doesn’t. 

And Jon cannot tell him, because if he says it out loud the fear will blossom into Tim’s chest and the Eye will drink it all and he refuses, he refuses to let this unfold, he will not get anything out of Tim this way; but he can’t lie either, because that’s not his style, and because Tim deserves better than a dismissive _nothing_ and a change of subject that would fool no one anyway, Tim deserves to be told when Jon fucks up, Jon has fucked up enough already, it’d be repulsive to try and pretend now like there isn’t anything wrong, it would make it creepier in a way to have even been inside Tim’s head at all.

Too many seconds slip away, each of them souring the mood a little more. Caught in the headlights, Jon realizes that maybe there is only one way to come out of this and give Tim the upper hand, and so he says:

“Don’t move.”

And he closes the distance until he can give Tim the kiss he was thinking about.

Hands instantly dropping the sides of the jacket he’s grabbed to aim, so that if Tim wants to push him away there will be no resistance, and he braces himself for the impact just as soon as their lips touch, feels Tim tense, hears surprise die in his throat, this is it then, the moment they fight for good—

and then Tim’s hands find the back of his head, thumbs pressing right behind his ears, and he pushes forwards, and Jon for a moment can only remember that there isn’t a magical power of hope and love to counterbalance the fear, but maybe, maybe, when an avatar gets scared enough of something else, it cancels out, and the violent beating of his heart can close his Eye shut for at least a second. 

They stumble, out of view or maybe just out of the way, Jon isn’t sure, tries to follow Tim’s lead as best he can but Tim is just pushing him against a wall and might not be so worried about them being seen; breaks and makes up the kiss a few times until he’s satisfied with how little they’re hidden.

“I fucking hate you,” he growls. It’s not a lie. He knows what prompted Jon to act. He hates it. He gets it, too. He kisses Jon again and Jon answers in kind—whatever he wants to take, he’s in his right anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Jon still slips in between their lips, it will do nothing but to ease his own conscience but he has to say it anyway.

“Shut up.”

It can’t be anything more than that; they both know it. They’re still outside, they’re still too close to a place where they will soon have a fight against something they barely understand, there still are too many broken things between them to hope that this could make up for even one of those. So when the taste of their lips isn’t enough anymore, they part, and breathe. Tim’s eyes only linger for a second and a half before he’s looking at the ground, at the road, at their gloomy and shitty surroundings. Jon needs a second more to remember what this was all about, and what they’re doing here.

Maybe the Eye can feed off his own shame, for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> thank hurlumerlu on tumblr for the prompt, and you can scream at me at riotbrrrd if you need


End file.
